A Month, A Week, And Three Days
by LaniLaniDuck
Summary: "Why does everyone take me seriously when I talk about that?" Kurt mused. "My Step-Brother, my Dad, my-" he stumbled over his words for a second. "-Blaine." He finished lamely, his cheeks turning quickly to a rosy, adorable pink.
1. Chapter 1

A month, a week, and three days. That was how long it had been since Kurt's famous failed spying escapade, and Blaine's famous failed attempt to seduce the boy with Katy Perry. And things, in Blaine's opinion, were starting to get a little awkward.

When they'd started spending time together, Blaine had held off on the I-want-in-your-impressively-tight-pants vibe. The moment, drinking coffee with Wes and David, when Kurt's face started to crumble? That was the moment Blaine knew a boyfriend was the last thing Kurt needed in him. Even though, as a rule, he refrained from thinking like this, he knew that their chances of lasting weren't the best. They lived far away. Kurt was already going through a lot for being gay, even without "rubbing it in their faces", which was what he knew the bullies would say they he was doing if he started actually dating a boy.

And not lasting with Kurt would be so much worse than not being with Kurt at all.

So he took on the roll of mentor for the time being, his protective side going to good use, driving the long drive to Lima to confront bullies, to take Kurt out for a supportive lunch, to be the good guy.

But it had been a month, a week, and three days, and neither of them had made a move towards something more. And it was beginning to drive Blaine insane.

"Blaine? Did you hear me?" Kurt asked him abruptly, and he sound of his name on the boy's pouting lips was enough to pull him out of his reverie. A reverie that mostly involved looking at those lips and trying to resist the urge to kiss them.

"What? Oh, sorry. I got distracted." Blaine looked at Kurt as apologetically as possible, hoping against hope he didn't ask what distracted him. They were sitting in the best coffee shop in existence. They had determined it was the best simply because it was located almost exactly between them, taking an hour for Blaine to get to, and just under an hour for Kurt. And though Blaine hadn't mentioned this to him, the fact that it had a loveseat by a fireplace that fit them both perfectly, so that they sat angled to look at each other and their legs touched slightly, also gave the place points.

"It happens." Kurt conceded, and Blaine could've sworn Kurt's eyes made their way to Blaine's chest, and the grey got a bit darker. A second later the look was gone. Wishful thinking. _Balls. _Blaine thought.

"Um. What was I talking about?" Kurt asked. Blaine laughed loudly.

"I have no idea." He admitted. His face flushed, and tried to remember. He'd been looking at Kurt's lips. Kurt's lips had been moving at the time. You would think, wouldn't you, that watching someone speak would give you a little insight as to what they're saying?

"Glitter." He said, remembering the way Kurt's tongue flicked against his teeth at the beginning of the word.

"That's all you remember? Glitter?" Kurt asked, looking offended.

"You were... feeding doves glitter, or something. Because you are _that gay_." Blaine smiled wide when Kurt simply laughed, instead of cringing at the word being used so flippantly in the middle of nowhere in Ohio, as he had when they'd started being friends.

"Why does everyone take me seriously when I talk about that?" Kurt mused. "My Step-Brother, my Dad, my-" he stumbled over his words for a second. "-Blaine." He finished lamely, his cheeks turning quickly to a rosy, adorable pink.

"I could deal with being your Blaine." Blaine murmured, looking awkwardly at his cup. There was a silence, heavy with things unsaid that should've been said before now. And they stayed unsaid. Kurt, being the master of delightful conversation that he was, managed to brush past that comment and back to the subject at hand. It still wasn't far enough from the subject of "them" for Blaine to be really comfortable, though.

"It's too bad you couldn't make it to the wedding," Kurt said, sounding so sincere it almost hurt Blaine to hear the regret in his voice. "I think things between Finn and myself are finally truly mended." Blaine felt a huge surge of jealousy in his chest. Kurt had told him about his past with Finn pretty early on. He'd also told him about the song his Glee club had sung to him at the wedding. Which was great. But the idea of a boy Kurt had harbored a crush on for so long dancing with him while singing about how perfect he was set Blaine's teeth on edge. He wanted to be the one doing cheesy things like that. _Calm down, the guy is straight. _He thought to himself. He managed a smile.

"Kurt, that's great." He said, and resisted the urge to place his hand on Kurt's smaller one. It was just sitting there, on Kurt's knee, taunting him with it's delicate grace. Their hands hadn't touched (at least, besides accidental brushes while reaching for the same thing that made Blaine's heart speed up) since he'd impulsively grabbed Kurt's before his Warblers performance, and it was getting harder every time he saw him not to take it again.

"Yeah. He's going to be living with us as soon as we find the right house-" Another fit of jealousy, that he fought off with a pitchfork "-so I'm glad he won't be calling me a fag anymore." _Grrrrr _went the protective monster in Blaine's chest. That, too, he fought off with the pitchfork. There was only so much protecting he could do, and since he didn't have a time machine, the angry feelings weren't helping anyone.

"But really, as great as dancing with Mercedes is-" _Oh for god's sake, he's gay. You have no need to get jealous of the girls too! _"-I really wish you'd been there do dance with. And to introduce to my dad. And Carole. They've heard a lot about you."

And there they were. Right back to the cusp of talking about what was going on, right back to skimming past it as though Kurt was just stating fact, both knowing they were pushing it. Both knowing what he meant, both pretending they didn't. Kurt speaking a bit too fast as he got to the part that meant more, getting a little breathless and his heart making a racket in his ribcage. Blaine seeing this, hearing this, and not saying a word. Because it had been a month, a week, and three days, and it felt too late to suddenly admit to anything. So he just nodded.

"Yeah. That would've been great." He said, almost completely distracted by the flush about Kurt's neck.

"And it really was beautiful, Blaine," Kurt continued, his eyes getting a far-away look as he reminisced. "The colors, the lights, my Dad and Carole, the ceremony- it was almost perfect."

The 'almost' didn't escape Blaine's notice. But, like everything else, he let it slide. They continued to talk, and he made a concerted effort not to let his eyes wander to Kurt's eyes, or down his arm to his hand, laying on his knee, or anywhere in between. Kurt recounted every detail of the wedding, and Blaine wished like hell he could've been there, and then Blaine told Kurt of how his parents had a commitment ceremony to renew their vows when he was thirteen.

"So I went crazy, of course, because I'm this gay kid and suddenly I'm in charge of a whole wedding," He told Kurt. Kurt laughed, and Blaine knew it was because that wasn't too different from what just happened with him, except Kurt was four years older than Blaine had been. "But I somehow didn't realize that I wasn't actually in charge. My mom was great. She used most of my suggestions- I had excellent taste, even then." He confided in Kurt. Kurt giggled. Was that a nervous giggle? Blaine tried not to dwell on it.

"I will always hold a grudge that she took my sister's suggestion for flowers over mine. Mia is a year older than me, and she said hydrangeas and carnations- dyed green."

"Oh, god, dyed flowers are _so _tacky." Kurt said, rolling his eyes.

"Exactly!" Blaine exclaimed. "Admittedly, purple and green are my Mom's favorite colors-"

"So have violets and white roses with lots of leaves and a green ribbon!" Kurt said exasperatedly, his voice slightly higher than usual. Blaine grinned. This was a much more comfortable topic of conversation, flowers. Nothing awkward or tense or telling about flowers. It was just so nice, talking to Kurt. Especially when he could really relax and just talk, being natural around him like he wasn't with most people. Only vaguely distracted by the way Kurt's gesticulating had misplaced a lock of his hair that was now falling into his eyes, and Kurt hadn't even noticed.

"Myself, I've always wanted a spring wedding." Kurt mentioned, and something clenched in Blaine's stomach. He nodded and made a quiet "Mmm-hmm" sound, to show that he's listening. _Oh god. We're talking about weddings. We're talking about _our prospective weddings. _This is not good. This could get bad so easy. Do not think about Kurt in a tux, Blaine. Do not. _The image, of course, came even more easily into his mind as he tried not to think about it. Burt walking his son down the aisle, Blaine waiting at the end with a gigantic smile on his face, vows... _You're not even a thing. _He reminded himself. _He doesn't even know how you feel about him. He probably doesn't feel the same way about you. Stop imagining lifting his veil and kissing him square on the mouth-_

"And it would have to be outdoors, of course, because I am _so _not having a Church wedding, and renting out a ballroom is _never_ as classy as it sounds." Kurt continued, Blaine struggling epicly with the imagery in his head. It wasn't really fair to paint such a wonderful picture and then expect Blaine not to paint himself in there as well.

"And I've always known what flowers I want at my wedding." Kurt said. "Burgundy iceberg roses, and orange lilies."

Blaine's jaw dropped.

"Me too."

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"So wait a second."

Blaine was lying on his bed, angsting at Wes and David, who were playing video games while sprawled across Blaine's floor. The game was paused at the moment, though, and David was turned around at an uncomfortable-looking angle, giving Blaine a _very _incredulous look.

"What?" Blaine asked, sighing.

"You two are absolutely _pining _after each other, talking all the time, keeping each other up late chatting, coming _this close_-" He put down the old Nintendo controller and held up his thumb and index finger so that they were almost touching. "-to actually teaching him Warblers music just because you like singing with him and couldn't think of anything else, _and _you both have the exact same idea of the perfect wedding?"

Blaine just sighed again.

"Yes. And that's what makes this all so difficult. It's been a month, a week, and four days, David-" David and Wes laughed loudly. "Oh, shut up." He grabbed a pillow off the bed and threw it at them.

"Blaine, you just made me die. You just killed Pikachu!" Wes exclaimed.

"Pikachu will live." Blaine said, not really interested in talking about Super Smash Bros right now.

"He will not!" Wes insisted, pausing the game again. "That's the point. You killed him. He's dead. Pokemon killer." He muttered, turning around.

"What were you saying, Blaine?" David asked.

"I was saying, he's perfect. So goddamn perfect. And I've turned into this, this- this _mentor _for him just because I wanted to be there for him without any romantic pressure. Just because I have this silly idea that gay guys can be friends without getting into bed with each other."

"And they can, Blaine." Wes reassured him.

"Just not you and Kurt." David added.

"He probably just sees me as an older brother." Blaine moaned.

"He does not," David said. "Tell us again what he did when you told him you have the same wedding fantasy."

"He-" Blaine began, but his face flushed and he felt like he was on fire and he pulled his pillow out from over his head, smashing it on his face and muttering into it. "He ut is nd on ay ee."

"Sorry? Didn't catch that." Wes said cheerfully, pushing Link off the level. David reached around and pulled the pillow away from him.

"He put his hand on my knee." Blaine said, miserably.

"Exactly. He put his hand on your knee." David repeated. "Now, we've met Kurt. We've hung out with him. And one thing you always seem to forget is that Kurt is not a very physically out there person."

"Except with one person." Wes told him.

"And that person's name starts with a B," David said. "Have you seen how close he sits to you?"

"Dude, we gave you the entire bed the other day, and he sat squished up to you the _entire time._" Wes said. Blaine was pretty much sure there was no way he could be blushing more. It wasn't so much that he was embarrassed that his friends had noticed that, more like he was embarrassed that the mere memory of Kurt sitting next to him for so long made his blood rush in his veins. And that his friends probably noticed _that _too.

"If we hadn't been there," Wes continued, "He probably would've been horizontal with you in three seconds flat."

No, Blaine was wrong. He could _totally _be blushing more.

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AN: Thank you so much for reading. There will be more, once I figure out what exactly I'm doing. I started writing this in my head as I was lying in bed with a migraine, and now I'm not sure where I'm going with it. In some sort of angsty, Klaine direction I'm sure.

If you send in a review, I will love you forever. I've been a lurker in various fandoms for ages, and I now I've actually gotten brave enough to post something, I would absolutely explode from happy for some reviews. Crit is amazing. Tell me what I did wrong. Tell me what I did right. Tell me what you think. Thanks for listening. :)


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thank you all so goddamn much for the reviews and support and adding me/my story to your alerts/favorites and basically being awesome as all hell. I said this on tumblr, but it bears repeating. My family goes around as we're eating Thanksgiving dinner and we talk about the things we're grateful for, in this kind of continual mess of thanks. And at one point, I did mention the people who reviewed me. I was so damn nervous about posting, and the reaction I got was so far from what I expected. I love this community, and I adore you all. Here's another chapter. I'm gonna go do dishes and then I have a billion ideas rolling around so I'll probably be updating soon-ish.

Oh, and I'll be editing the first chapter soon. I have a really old computer and my version of Open Office makes formatting difficult, hence the really awkward transition in scenes.

Again, reviews are made of win. And crit too. It's important. You guys don't know me, so your point of view is extra important to me. 3 3 3

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The great thing about crushing one someone in Show Choir, Blaine admitted, was that when you typed their name into YouTube, you found videos of them. Sometimes, you found quite a few videos.

New Directions, for all of their spying and being spied on, seemed to post every song they ever performed online. And it wasn't just their performances as a group. Oh, no. They also seemed to have individual members sing their own songs for the group, or a couple of singers together, just to keep things interesting. There were even videos taken at a _much _lower quality, phone quality, that made it seem like life in New Directions was like life in a musical, impromptu song and dance numbers where everyone knew the words and all.

Blaine spent his entire Saturday online. He'd asked Kurt if he was busy, but he was. Actually, Blaine had felt a little brushed off with the _"Sorry, have to go shopping." _He got in response to his text. Firstly, he knew Kurt cared a lot about fashion- it was one of the sexiest things about him, the clothes he wore every day- but he definitely did not _need _to go shopping. The boy had a closet full of designer clothes he'd never even worn yet, just waiting for the right day or the right flux in the fashion world to say it was stylish. And secondly, Blaine was gay. He was beyond gay. And in a completely stereotype-perpetuating way, he loved shopping. He'd gone shopping with Kurt before. It had been a month, two weeks, and a day since they'd met, and suddenly he was getting blown off for clothes.

There was something funny going on, Blaine decided. Kurt had been acting weird all week. They had coffee on Monday, and he had been the very picture of bubbly. Talking about the wedding, and Karofsky getting expelled, and music and art and movies and Blaine's life and everything.

But Tuesday? Tuesday was weird. Kurt, for the first time ever, didn't answer Blaine's texts. He was used to waiting a while for responses, because they were both in school and they had to be careful not to get caught. After a couple of hours, Blaine had assumed just that had happened- Kurt had been texing him back, and he got caught. But no explanation had come. Blaine didn't hear from him until the next morning.

**Kurt:**

_Hey, what's up?_

**Blaine: **

_Did you get my text yesterday?_

**Kurt:**

_You texted me? Huh. Phone must've deleted it._

Something was fishy. It wasn't that Blaine didn't trust Kurt to tell him the truth. It wasn't even a big deal. It was just that it didn't _sound _like Kurt. It sounded, frankly, like the Kurt who had to have his emotions coaxed out of him. The guarded, upset, and unsteady Kurt Blaine thought had been chased away by a happier Kurt. Especially since Karofsky wasn't there to make Kurt's life hell- Shit. Karofsky.

**Blaine: **

_Kurt, is something going on with Karofsky again? Is he harassing you outside of school?_

**Kurt:**

_No, I haven't seen even a toenail of Karofsky since he was expelled. Don't worry._

So Blaine tried not to worry. He reminded himself that they were close, and Kurt would tell him if something was going on. They didn't text again that day, which was weird, since Kurt usually sent him funny or stupid quotes from his teachers and classmates, asked about Blaine's day, initiated conversations. It was easy to get the message. Kurt didn't want to talk to him that day. So he didn't.

Wednesday, Kurt sent Blaine the most confusing text message he'd ever received.

**Kurt:**

_Thinking of you._

That was it. No "Hey, just wondering what's up, was bored, thought I'd see how you're doing". Just "_Thinking of you._" Blaine spent over a minute staring at his phone, having no idea what to say. How was he supposed to respond to that? It was the vaguest thing anyone could ever say, he was convinced of this. Why was he thinking of him? How was he thinking of him? Why was this important enough to text in the middle of the day? In fact- and he felt like a stalker just for knowing this- Kurt should be in the class where his teacher actually took their phones as they walked in the door. How was Kurt texting him? Did he skip class?

Crazy images of Kurt leaving school, driving to Dalton, and showing up to profess his undying love for Blaine in front of his entire class made their way into his mind. He shook them free, and looked back down at his phone. Sighing, he typed out the only two characters that he could manage.

**Blaine:**

_:) _

God, that was pathetic. What did that even mean? He could just see Kurt getting that text and interpreting it into a million different things, everywhere from "You're weirding me out a little" to "I'm in love with you" to "Meet me in the supply closet on the third floor and have your way with me".

Okay, so maybe that last one wasn't likely.

Thursday was Thanksgiving, and Blaine didn't expect much. The first thing he did when he woke up was text Kurt, wishing him a happy turkey day. With how little they'd said to each other that week, he was not expecting a call a few minutes later.

"Hey Kurt." He said, happy as always at the thought of hearing the boys voice. It was the best anticipation, knowing for sure he'd hear it, just waiting for him to speak.

"Blaine?" Kurt sounded a bit muffled and out of breath, like he was trying to talk quietly while jogging.

"Yeah?"

"I'm making Thanksgiving dinner with Carole. I don't think I'll have another moment today, so I wanted to call you now and let you know that I'm so thankful that I know you."

"Really?" Ugh. Again with the sounding pathetic. Thank god Kurt wasn't in the room with him, because he was half in shock and half having issues not squeaking, and he didn't think that even Kurt's presence in his room could prevent him from flailing his arms in front of him like a muppet, as he happened to be doing that very moment.

"Really. Blaine- you've helped me a lot. You've been there for me when no one else was, and you stayed with me even when things didn't suck. I'm not just some charity case for you and that means a lot. I know we've only known each other for like, A month, a week, and six days-"

"Ow!" Blaine exclaimed.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked, sounding confused.

"Um, yeah," He replied, trying to sound nonchalant. But, as he had just fallen off of his bed and onto the floor because a boy knew how long they'd known each other, he doubted it was working. "Just- stubbed my toe." _Lame excuse, Blaine. _He chastised himself.

"Oh." Kurt's voice was a little flustered now, like he was having trouble figuring out what to say next.

"I'm thankful that I know you too." Blaine said in a rush, before he could chicken out.

"Oh!" Kurt's response was, actually, even more flustered now.

"You're cool, Kurt," _Cool? Is that the best you can come up with? _"You've never been a charity case. Just someone I knew I wanted." _Oh shit. Didn't mean to end that sentence there._ "To, um, get to know." Did Kurt really gasp there? He couldn't tell if he really did or he'd made it up. It was probably his imagination.

"And getting to know you has totally lived up to expectations. Yeah. I'm thankful."

"Well," Kurt said. Blaine knew that tone of voice. Could see the shy smile. "Happy Thanksgiving."

"Yeah. Happy Thanksgiving."

Blaine hung up.

But Friday- Friday just sucked. Friday, Blaine didn't hear a thing from Kurt. He'd made a promise to himself, that he wouldn't try to hard. That he wouldn't get upset if Kurt didn't have time for him, because he wasn't the boyfriend. He was just the friend. And he was the supportive friend, the friend who was there for Kurt no matter what was going on with himself, and he didn't need any reciprocation. And as he reminded himself of that, he knew it was true. If Kurt didn't talk to him for years, blew him off, hooked up with boys who weren't him, and then suddenly texted him and asked if they could talk, Blaine would say yes. And that kinda sucked. Like his entire day.

Kurt didn't text him. Kurt updated his status on facebook, but wasn't showing up in the chat. Blaine didn't really think that Kurt was purposely not talking to him. But part of him wondered. And part of him worried. And part of him went over the conversation they'd had the day before, and decided he'd scared him off with Freudian slips telling him that he wanted him.

David and Wes tried to convince him otherwise, of course. They tried to tell him that he was being silly, Kurt was probably just busy, Kurt wanted to have his babies so he _clearly _wasn't avoiding him. But nothing worked. Because Blaine knew that Kurt got through his busy days by talking to him. He'd said so himself. And now he wasn't talking to him. The only clear explanation was that Blaine was a horrible person.

And these were the thoughts that ran through his mind, which led to Blaine lying in bed in his boxers and nothing else, stalking Kurt on YouTube. It was hard to tell which video was his favorite. He loved the one that had been done like the Vogue music video, starring the cheerleading coach at McKinley. Kurt wasn't in it much, but when he was- the serious look on his face, the way he moved his hands- it was enchanting. And the video was high quality, so he could see the details better. At the very end, he did this flippy thing with his hand, and one of his fingers trailed at his lower lip. Blaine couldn't stop watching that part, his boxers pulling at his groin the more times he did.

But that wasn't all. There was a video from the first boys vs. girls competition New Directions had, Kurt more dressed down than he had ever seen him. He was wearing dark wash jeans and a white t-shirt and a leather jacket, and it was insanely hot. And though he didn't have any solos, Blaine got a thrill every time he recognized Kurt's voice in the harmonies, his falsetto one of the most impressive things he'd ever heard.

And then there were the ones where Kurt actually had solos. The ones where the camera focused on the boy and Blaine could see the happy glint in his eye he got from being on stage. Bad Romance was purely stunning, and no other word even came close to describing it. It wasn't really a surprise that people where harassing Kurt so much. It was wrong, and he didn't deserve it, but there was still no way _any _boy could get away with wearing heels like that without getting the shit kicked out of him. Seeing the way Kurt kept on putting himself out there, not backing down, being unflinchingly himself- seeing it made Blaine feel a rush of emotions varying from admiration to shame.

He'd shared with Kurt. He'd told him that he ran, told him that he wasn't strong enough, tried to help him make the kind of choices he wished he'd made. But he hadn't been able to tell him everything. Because every time they spoke, Blaine was struck with just how much Kurt went through. He was struck with the pain and the frustration and disappointment.

And Blaine had been through a lot of that. Some of what had happened to him was worse. But most of it was better. It was less constant, for one thing. He didn't feel dogged. There was never one person, out for his blood. He'd felt like the whole school thought he was worthless, and then he'd been told he was worthless. He'd been shoved around too, attacked verbally and every once and a while, physically. But he'd never had that one person after him. He couldn't imagine how frightening that was.

He saw things with Kurt and he thanked god that he hadn't had a Karofsky at his school. Because he'd lost himself. Hell, he wasn't sure he knew who he was anymore, and he hadn't had to deal with that hell-hole for over a year. He tried to fade away so that nobody paid any attention to him. He didn't talk to anyone if he could help it. He just... paled. And besides one instance where Kurt tried to be macho- which, incidentally, Blaine found to be the most adorable story he'd ever heard- and made out with a girl- which, incidentally, Blaine found to make his stomach churn in jealousy-, he'd stuck to it. Kurt was the very definition of gay pride, and sometimes, he couldn't help but wonder if he really needed him.

_You're an idiot. Kurt's been bearly holding it together. He's needed someone. You're that person for him. You know that. Stop angsting. _But it didn't work. He could beat himself up for doubting it all day, but it didn't change the fact that nothing short of Kurt kissing him until his lips were sore was going to convince him that he wasn't a failure.

As if to prove to Blaine just how great Kurt had been doing without him, the next video he clicked on was Le Jazz Hot. He'd heard all about it- the shitty way Finn talked to Kurt, how he'd convinced him not to let his gay rub off on Sam, how Kurt decided to sing a duet by himself.

Kurt had told him about it. Kurt had even sung the song to him over the phone one night. But that was nothing compared to the horrible quality video that was wobbly and had major issues focusing. Because one thing Kurt had failed to mention while telling the story was that he had been dancing onstage with an absolute _mass _of boys in suits. Sexy boys in suits. Sexy boys in suits who were carrying him about the stage, their hands all over him. And Kurt just looked so pleased, surrounded by those boys and his gorgeous voice and kicking all the ass there was to kick.

And just when he was getting over the aching to be there, next to Kurt, and it was begining to settle into a dull pounding in his chest, Kurt had to go and hit the most ridiculous note in the history of notes too high for boys to be allowed to sing without having sold their souls to the devil. It gave him goosebumps.

But nothing in the world could've prepared Blaine for the extreme hard-on that was Push it. Fifteen seconds into the video, and Kurt's eyes were closed and his hands we crawling spectacularly low, past his waistband, and Blaine's eyes were wide and shocked, his hands barely avoiding mimicing Kurt's in the video. He watched the entire thing several times through, and eventually there was no stopping it- he _had _to text Kurt.

**Blaine:**

_So are you aware of how many people have posted videos of New Directions online?_

**Kurt:**

_Oh no._

**Blaine:**

_Oh yes. ;)_

Well, that winky face was definately not planned.

**Kurt:**

_And? What's the verdict?_

**Blaine:**

_Your voice is amazing. We Warblers have more competition than we bargined for. And- some gutsy song choices you've got going there._

**Kurt:**

_What did you see, exactly?_

**Blaine:**

_Oh, just a little classic by the wonderful Salt n Peppa._

Blaine wished he was having this conversation in person, because the look on Kurt's face had to be brilliant.

**Kurt:**

_\Shit. I'd kinda hoped that had been wiped off the face of the earth._

**Blaine:**

_Oh, no chance of that. I've downloaded the video. It's already on my iPod._

**Kurt: **

_No way I'm going to convince you to delete it, huh?_

**Blaine:**

_Yeah, I don't think so. This is pure gold._

**Kurt:**

_Please? Name your price. _

Blaine's thoughts went all over the place. _Oh no, this is just too predictible. _He thought, and somehow managed not to tell Kurt he'd have to be his sex slave for a week to get him to stop watching that video. First of all, he didn't really have the balls to do something like that. But he also had no desire to _make_ Kurt do anything to him, because then it wouldn't be real. Okay, maybe he had a little desire. But not enough to do anything about it.

**Blaine:**

_Sorry. Not gonna happen. Kurt, you smack a guy's ass in this._

**Kurt:**

_You have to understand, they made me do it! We needed more people to go to Sectionals, and Rachel was convinced that sex was the only way to lure people in._

**Kurt:**

_It worked, too._

**Blaine:**

_I bet it did. If I was at your school and I saw that performance, I'd be signing up the second you started dancing._

Shit. He was flirting again. He just couldn't stop himself.

**Blaine:**

_Plus, from the look on that guy's face, he was not expecting you to do that._

**Kurt:**

_Yeah, not so much. That was Finn._

**Blaine:**

_Oh. _

And with that, he effectivly killed the conversation. He couldn't think of a thing he could say to make it any better, and not having anything he could do, he started to watch the video again. About halfway through, he felt the incredible urge to pick up his phone. Without really thinking, he typed the words in his head.

**Blaine:**

_Don't know why he looked so offended, really. You touched his ass. That's not something a sane person complains about._

And he hit send. And then he realized that nothing he'd said in that entire conversation qualified as mentoring.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Oh hello, short chapter! Didn't expect to see you! I was planning on longer and then it just stopped. I was gonna write another scene. But something told me it was meant to end where it does and I think that's the world telling me I need to get more sleep. So I'm going to heed this advice, and post this, and then go to sleep.

Oh, and I'm sorry to say that this probably won't be a very long story, all told. Maybe a few more chapters, but I want to have a fully wrapped-up story in time for Tuesday. I know myself, and I'm distractible enough that once I get new cannon, I'm not going to be able to go back to this. However, if I somehow don't get it done in time, I won't abandon it. And I'm gonna keep writing. So yeah.

Djkaghjkhda I'm a tired Lani tonight.

I dedicate this chapter to Tasha, because we spent over an hour tonight chatting on FB- as Kurt and Blaine. And she's awesome. And maybe if I send her enough love, she'll post her fanfic and I can read it.

And I don't think I'll ever be able to post a chapter without thanking you all. Knowing that people are waiting for me to update gives me more motivation than I can explain. You all rock. And reviews are made of awesome. :)

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The Monday that was a month, two weeks, and three days started off really, really badly. Blaine had never really understood the phrase 'Got Up On The Wrong Side Of The Bed'. Really, what was the point of blaming the bed for your bad mood? Not to mention that his bed had always been pressed against a wall, so that there was only one side to get up on.

But this morning? He'd take any explanation.

From the moment he opened his eyes, from before that moment even, from the moment he became the slightest bit aware that he was awake, it was like there was a cloud hanging over his head. A big, grey, raining cloud. He got up, showered, got dressed, grabbed his messenger bag, ate, and drove to school with every movement a battle. He felt heavy. He felt displaced. He didn't know why.

Well. He knew a little. But he was avoiding it, because it was stupid. It was the stupidest thing, letting boy issues get to him like this. It wasn't like he was thinking "Things between me and Kurt are awkward and I probably crossed some line and now he'll never want to be my friend even though he said all those nice things to me on Thanksgiving, and everything sucks, so I'm going to be grumpy and depressed now." It just was. He just was.

The cloud followed him into school, quite happily settled above him, content to make him as miserable as he wanted.

"Come on, Blaine. Where's that winning smile?" Wes asked the second Blaine walked up to his locker. He just scowled.

"Yeah," David concurred, pinching Blaine's cheek in a way he clearly thought was cheery and helpful. "You never know what could happen. You want to be looking your best."

Blaine managed a half-assed look of confusion before turning back to his locker. Normally David and Wes were the perfect antidote to a bad mood. They'd mess around, say weird shit, and make him laugh. He'd forget what was bothering him. Problem solved. But this day seemed to be a bit more difficult than the other bad days he'd had.

"You may want to listen to David this time, Blaine." Wes said, and Blaine couldn't help but be suspicious, and, alright, a little distracted from the cloud. There was a mysterious tone in Wes's voice that was generally reserved for egging on people they were plotting against. He'd never heard this tone directed at him.

"What did you do?" He asked slowly.

"I can really, truly, honestly, absolutely, certainly, positively, gosh-darn-tootin'ly tell you that for once, we didn't do anything." Wes responded.

"I do not trust the massive collection of adverbs you have there. I think they're masking something much more dastardly."

"Why do people always think we're dastardly?" David asked innocently.

"Um, maybe because you are?"

Blaine turned around surprisingly fast. That sounded like- it couldn't be-

"Excuse me, um... hi. Can I ask you a question? I'm- I'm new here." Kurt said, repeating the first words he'd ever said to Blaine exactly. But this time, he wasn't dressed in an adorable- yet incorrect- blazer, shorts, and knee-high boots. Oh no. Standing there, in the flesh, right in front of him, was Kurt. A Kurt decked out in his very own Dalton Academy uniform.

Blaine's brain was not working. It flatly refused to put two and two together, and it made Blaine look like an idiot.

"Woah, Kurt. Back to spy again? You're doing better than last time, but I can't help think it would work better if the entire school hadn't already seen you." He said, reaching out and fixing Kurt's collar as he spoke. Even though there was nothing wrong with his collar. Just as there had been nothing wrong with his collar the first time he'd shown up out of the blue in the halls of Dalton.

Kurt just laughed awkwardly for a second, and Blaine couldn't figure out what was going on. All he knew was that everything was suddenly very surreal.

"What's going on?" He asked, because David and Wes were shaking their heads next to him as though they were disappointed in him, and Kurt was looking at him as if waiting for him to get the joke. "Don't get me wrong, it's great that you're here- but it doesn't make much sense."

And Kurt smiled sweetly, and nodded, and told him that he was transferring to Dalton.

He felt like he was floating, and all he could feel was his breath rushing in and out faster than usual, making his head all hazy and warm. And all he could see was Kurt's face, Kurt's lips, Kurt's hair, Kurt's eyes, and they were all _there, _right next to him, and then Kurt put a hand on his shoulder- a hand that had been chilled by the cold outside, a hand that was the perfect thing to bring him back.

"Blaine, are you alright?" Kurt asked with that voice, oh, that voice that sounded so much better in real life, because telephone wires couldn't begin to do it justice- _Pull yourself together. _Blaine told himself, physically shaking his head to get those distracting thoughts out of it. _He's standing right in front of you, and he's worried, so stop waxing poetic about his voice. He's standing right fucking there. _

"I- Sorry. Wasn't expecting that. I think I went into shock." He finally said.

Kurt's laugh that time wasn't awkward. It was happy, relieved, excited. And that was the thing that pushed away the cloud for good, his laugh. It was proverbial sunlight, and it illuminated the entire school with a glow of happiness. At least, that was what Blaine thought.

"Thank you guys," Kurt said to David and Wes. "That was totally the reaction I was hoping to get."

"No problem, Kurtsie." Wes replied.

"Yeah, anytime." David said, and they both clapped Kurt on the shoulder as they walked away, looking pleased with themselves.

"What did they do for you?" Blaine asked, confused.

"Oh, just managed to help me get everything set up here without you finding out. I told them I was transferring, and I wanted to surprise you, and they told me that it's practically impossible to keep a secret at this school-"

"Too true." Blaine murmured, remembering the fiasco that was his one and only boyfriend at Dalton.

"-and they kept it hushed up so you wouldn't find out. Originally, the plan involved a large musical number announcing my arrival," He confided. "But I saw the back of your head and I knew there was no way I could've waited any longer to see the look on your face."

"What look on my face?" Blaine asked, slightly offended and slightly self-conscious.

"The one you're wearing right now." Kurt told him, smiling. This was weird. It was great, but it was weird. Blaine had, of course, imagined this happening. He'd thought up a hundred scenarios in his head for this. Most of those fantasies started off with Karofsky going too far with Kurt, Blaine magically appearing out of mid-air, saving Kurt from a dreadful fate, and then whisking him off to live a happy life with him at Dalton, and, more importantly, holed up in his bedroom for weeks and weeks.

And that was all very well and good. Images of sliding that navy blue blazer off of Kurt's shoulders and grabbing that blue and red striped tie to pull him on top of Blaine had been all that had gotten him through his angst as of late. He didn't see himself giving up those images anytime soon. But the reality of Kurt standing in front of his locker, chatting with him before class- there was no comparison. It was heavenly.

He had to have the most dopey, lovelorn, un-sexy look on his face.

"Well, welcome to Dalton!" He said happily, trying to figure out what he normally did with his face to make it look normal. After a little bit of haphazard experimenting, he decided he couldn't go wrong with a smirk. "What brings a fellow like yourself to out hallowed halls? Sized up the competition, did you? Decided you couldn't beat us, so you'd just join us? Oh, and what's your first class? I'll walk you there."

"Um, English. Room 215," Kurt said, looking down at a piece of paper he was clutching to as though his life depended on it. Blaine nodded, and placed a hand on his back, showing him the best path to 215. "And no, though the Warblers really are intimidating. I- well- Karofsky came back." he admitted, and Blaine could tell he was nervous, unsure of what Blaine's reaction would be.

"He _what_?" Blaine asked, stopping in the middle of the hallway and just barely managing not to shout.

"He came back. The school board decided repeal the expulsion. Last Wednesday, he went back to school."

"I- That's so wrong!" Blaine exclaimed. "Oh god, Kurt..." a horrible thought popped into his mind. "Please don't tell me he tried anything more, don't tell me he hurt you worse this time-"

"I didn't give him the chance," Kurt told him, his voice fluttering slightly. "We decided I should go to Dalton the minute we found out. My locker was cleared out before he showed up for school on Wednesday."

"Thank god," Blaine said, and he was about to start walking again when another thought struck him. Not horrible this time, just confusing. "Um, Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?" He asked. "If Karofsky went back last Wednesday, then you've been out of school since Tuesday-" His mind went back, trying to remember what had been happening then. Tuesday was the day when he felt all shitty- "You didn't even talk to me on Tuesday!" he shouted, indignant. "Not a single word! I texted you, and you never responded! What the hell, Kurt?"

"I just wanted it to be a surprise," Kurt said lamely, looking wistful. "The minute it was decided I had this wonderful image of walking up behind you here, and putting my hands over your eyes, and being like 'Guess who goes to your school now?' and I guess I got my heart set on it."

"And I wasn't sure it would happen, anyway. My dad and Carole paid for it with what was going to go towards their Honeymoon, so that was set- but I had no idea if Dalton was going to accept me or not. They don't normally let people in mid-term, so I had to apply for all this special transfer stuff and show that I'd catch up to the schoolwork and be socially active and be a model student." Blaine nodded. He'd had to go through the same process when he'd transferred, and it had been the first time they had made the mid-term exception.

"And of course I _am _a model student, and any school is lucky to have me, so they let me in. But there was Thanksgiving and everything and I didn't actually know for sure until Friday night," Kurt told him. "That was why I didn't invite you shopping on Saturday. I was getting my uniform."

"So _that's _why you've been so weird this week." Blaine said, suddenly understanding a lot. It was a huge relief, knowing it wasn't because he'd been making him feel uncomfortable.

"Well, yeah," Kurt said, and Blaine was disappointed as they reached the door to 215. "I'm sorry about that, by the way. I wasn't trying to be awkward, I just kept coming so close to telling you. I knew that if I relaxed, I'd spill the beans." And with that he opened the door and walked into his first class at Dalton, leaving Blaine standing in the hall.Somewhere, as though from miles away, a bell rang.

_Spill the beans has to be the cutest expression ever used. _Blaine thought, and walked leisurely down the hall. It didn't matter that he was already late to class- he could tell his teacher he'd been helping the new kid.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: KLFGJKLJKSDFK I'M CUTTING IT SO CLOSE. One more chapter to go. Chapter that I want to get done with tomorrow morning. Before the new episode. And I can't write for a large chunk of the day because I'm going to Salem. Balls.

ALSO I HAVE OVER 100 REVIEWS. WHAT IS THIS NONSENSE? Thank you all. Thank you thank you thank you. You are totally the reason I keep coming back and writing. You're the reason I'm going to keep writing once I'm done with this one. It's been almost a week since I started this and it's been one of the best almost weeks ever.

Random fact: I wrote this chapter wearing a tie I have for no good reason that just happens to be the Dalton tie. Yup. I'm sorta convinced I'm Blaine.

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Blaine was still trying not to push Kurt. He wanted something with him, yes. He wanted it pretty desperately. But he made a promise to himself, and he was going to keep it. _Kurt has to make the first move. _He told himself. _After Karofsky taking his first kiss like that- he may not know it, but he needs to claim his second one as his own. So I'm waiting._

There was no way he could brush off Wes and David when they told him Kurt liked him back now. The subtleties of flirting long-distance were lost with the boy going to the same school. They still texted, but hardly during the day. They still talked on the phone, but not as often. And that wasn't an issue. They only cut down on those forms of communication because they had better, more direct methods now.

Suddenly, a whole world of physical flirting was open to Blaine. Instead of texing the word "_Courage" _to Kurt in between classes, he could actually verbalize the word, his voice just above a whisper in Kurt's ear as he passed him in the hall. When he wanted to tell him something, any little thing, he'd grab his hand and pull him into an empty classroom, no matter how unimportant the thing he wanted to say was.

And Kurt wasn't shying away from this. In fact, he was starting to be the more forward of the two. It was proving to be a problem. Everything with Kurt seemed to turn into the most amazing problem he'd ever encountered.

"Blaine, are you even listening to me? You're gazing in the distance and I sincerely doubt you're actually paying attention. That's the look you get when you're thinking about a certain soprano. David, he's not paying attention to me. Help?"

"So, Blaine, I was talking to Kurt earlier-"

"Yeah?" Blaine jumped out of his reverie. He'd been considering inviting Kurt over to his house. He'd been to Kurt's house before, picked him up once for coffee when Finn had to borrow his car for something. But besides from that one time, they hadn't made the step from being friends who hung out and texted to being friends who spent time at each other's houses. The idea of Kurt seeing his room seemed much more personal than it had with anyone else he knew.

But the sound of Kurt's name would always send up a red flag in his brain, would always stop his thoughts in their tracks. He was brought back to earth, and remembered that he was sitting in the commons, and supposedly, he was studying with Wes and David. He tried to act like he'd been paying attention the entire time. It didn't even begin to work.

"Nice try." Wes said.

"Yeah, before I started talking about Kurt, we were discussing being florists on the moon." David said. Blaine blushed.

"Sorry, I was just-"

"Thinking about Kurt." They both finished for him.

"Well, yeah," He admitted. "But do you see the way he's looking at me lately? It's like he's daring me to say something about it. Like he's just going to stand there and torture me in his fucking perfectly tailored pants that fit his ass like-"

"Woah woah woah woah woah!" Wes said. "It was all well and good when we'd just met him, and we didn't know him, but the dude goes to Dalton now. He's going to the next Warblers rehearsal. You can't keep talking about his ass, because then whenever he's walking away, all we'll be able to think about is how obsessed with it you are."

"I am not _obsessed _with his ass," Blaine said, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. "And that isn't the point, anyway. The point is that he's driving me insane, and I think he's doing it on purpose."

"Of course he's doing it on purpose," David told him, patting Blaine on the shoulder. "He wants you to rip off all his clothes and kiss him silly. If you're insane, there's a much higher chance of actually growing the balls to do that."

"Wait, so I'm not allowed to talk about his ass, but you're allowed to put the image of me "ripping his clothes off and kissing him silly" in our heads?"

"Like you didn't have that image in your head already."

"I told you already, I'm not taking the lead on this. If he wants to kiss me, he can kiss me!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air exasperatedly.

"Who can kiss you?" Kurt asked, walking up and sitting down casually on the arm of Blaine's chair. Ever since he'd transferred, he'd acquired the habit of entering conversations just late enough not to know that they were talking about him. Sometimes Blaine wished he'd just show up as he was rhapsodizing about his lips or something- it would be awkward as hell, but then at least it would be over.

"Neil Partick Harris. The man is a genius." He said, thanking god a hundred times over for the improv class he took last year. He was kind of astonished he was actually able to think on his feet like that.

"He's also about fifteen years older than you. And he has a boyfriend. And a baby." Kurt responded. Was that a hint of jealousy in his voice? _Huh. Maybe I should mention celebrity crushes more often. _He thought.

"Yeah, Blaine. You home-wrecker," Wes said, and snapped his history textbook shut emphatically. "I can hardly stand to look at you, horrible boy. Lets go find someone with morals to study with, David."

"Yup." Was all David said, and he got up, gathered his things, and left without another word.

"They keep doing that." Kurt mused. With David and Wes's departure, they left two seats quite close to Blaine vacant. Kurt didn't move from his perch. He was right, they did keep doing that. Every time the four of them were talking, David and Wes mysteriously had somewhere to go. Blaine wasn't exactly complaining. They'd been clear with him from the start that they would do whatever they could to get Kurt into his eagerly awaiting arms.

"I think they're sleeping together." Blaine suggested. Kurt laughed, his head falling back just slightly, and exposing a bit of neck normally covered by a scarf. It was pale and smooth and beautiful, and Blaine's hands twitched slightly, wanting to pull him down from his slightly higher seat into his lap and kiss that bit of neck until every inch of Kurt was flushed and red. And he meant _every _inch.

"Blaine? Can I ask you something?" Kurt said, his voice slightly higher than usual, and much quieter than usual.

"Go ahead." Blaine replied, looking him square in the eyes. The trick to looking into Kurt's eyes was to really, really focus on what he was hearing. It was far too easy to keep staring until he was practically drooling and had no idea what was going on around him. He knew this from experience.

"Will you go out to dinner with me? On- will you go out to dinner with me?"

"That was like, a something and a half." Blaine said, joking lamely in an attempt to cover the rabid flailing that was going on beneath his skin. His heart, his brain, his blood- it was all racing. He had absolutely no idea what Kurt's intentions were. It sounded, for a second, like he was going to ask Blaine to go out to dinner with him- on a date. And that was really all he wanted at the moment.

But was that what Kurt wanted? He couldn't tell. All memories of being flirted with, of innuendo tossed around playfully and purposefully, of hands glancing by each other accompanied by sharp gasps that they both tried to ignore, they were all replaced with not so wonderful memories. They were replaced by the awkward ones. It seemed he was faced with a choice between two routes. The safe one, and the risky one.

He picked the safe one.

Later on, he would determine that he had actually picked the stupid one.

"Course! Where do you want to go?" He replied cheerfully, hoping the locale would tip him off and he could figure out if it was a date or not.

"How about Red Onion?" Kurt suggested. No hints there. Red Onion was probably the only Thai restaurant in Ohio outside of Cincinnati, and they'd been there before. It was classy, but not fancy. It had great lighting and great food and lots of families ate there. However, they also had fairly intimate, secluded tables for two. There was no way of telling.

"Nom. Sounds great." He said, smiling wide. Kurt looked happy, but slightly confused. _Oh boy. __Awkward alert. _Blaine thought. Maybe the safe route was just the awkward one. _Maybe the only way to stop being awkward is to take a few risks. _He mused. _Well, only if it works. If not, it's about ten times more awkward. Knowing another gay guy should not be this difficult. _He sighed, but only slightly. Kurt didn't notice, which was a small blessing.

"Great! I could pick you up..." Kurt said. A wonderful scene unfolded in Blaine's head involving Kurt showing up on his doorstep with a bouquet of flowers and a charming smile on his face. Of course, picking him up would involve meeting his parents- _Oh dear god, no. _He tried to suggest something else, but he'd said sure before he'd thought about it, and he wasn't going to take it back, that was just weird.

"I'll give you my address." He said, searching through his bag for a piece of paper.

"Blaine. I have an iPhone," Kurt told him, waving it in front of his face. "Just tell me your address, and I can put it in GoogleMaps and get directions."

"Right." He said. He watched as Kurt went to the maps app, waiting for when he'd be ready to type in his address. Kurt's thumb slid across the screen to unlock it, and Blaine couldn't help but notice that the screensaver was a picture of the two of them Kurt had snapped on his first day at Dalton. They were both smiling, and he remembered vividly the thrill at having an excuse to be closer to the boy, trying to squeeze both of them into frame.

He grinned, and squeaked a little to himself, and rattled off his address like nothing was happening.

"I have to agree with you about Neil Patrick Harris, I must admit," Kurt said, slipping gracefully off of the arm to Blaine's chair and into another available seat. Blaine's side felt a little colder without his body heat so close. "Though he's no Johnny Depp." He concluded.

"_Nobody _can compare to that man." Blaine said. This was not the first time they'd had this conversation, and he fell quite quickly into the odd mess of emotions that came with it. He embraced the fuzzy feelings of finally having another gay boy there at school with him, and resigned himself to the jealous feelings he felt when Kurt talked about other boys. Even if said boys were far too old, far too unattainable, and far too straight to be a threat.

"_Seriously,_" Kurt agreed. "I mean, the man's hair. There's just something about dark hair, you know? Short, with some texture, like you could just run your fingers through it for hours and never get bored..."

"Eh. I'm more of a fan of light brown hair myself." Blaine said, then looked up at the boy with light brown hair sitting across from him. He blushed. A lot. _Damn. _

Kurt had the decency not to say anything about it, and went back to talking about actors he wanted to kiss. There was one thing that kept sticking out. Kurt didn't mention the eyes of every guy he talked about, but when he did- _They all had hazel eyes. _Just like Blaine. He wondered it Kurt had noticed that little detail. And he cowered away from making a move. He was in a perpetual state of cowering away.

_It's just up to him. _Blaine told himself. _That's why I'm not doing anything. Needs to claim his own kisses. Needs to know he's got some control. I'm being the good guy. _But it was getting harder to convince himself by the second.

Now, if only someone could text him some courage. He could really fucking use it.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Okay, I lied. Well, I didn't actually lie. I just didn't know what I was talking about. This was not posted before the new episode, and it isn't the last chapter. So, yay? I'm not even sure how I managed to write this much all in one day. I had a pretty different plan for how this was going to go, and then I looked up hours later and I was pleased, and it was quite different.

What with the last episode, I so want to just fix everything in Kurt's life and write pure, unadulterated fluff. That's all I want to do. Ever.

This may be my shortest Author's Note yet. I love you all. See you soon.

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There's something incredibly right about opening the door and finding Kurt behind it. It's like "Oh, yes, this is how things are supposed to be." It's like "This is what's going to be happening forever, right? Please?" It's like "Goddamn, I'm the luckiest guy in the world."

And it's a little like "Oh shit. He came up to the door. Now I have to introduce him to my parents."

Originally, Blaine was going to tell Kurt to wait in the car. He was going to leave without hardly a word about it, just enough to let them know that he was leaving. But then he'd had a wardrobe crisis. An epic wardrobe crisis. It was to the extent that when Kurt rang the doorbell, Blaine was only just pulling his favorite sweater over his head, the one that made his eyes stand out, and the floor of his bedroom looked like it had every item of clothing he owned strewn across it.

No, scratch that. It _did _have every item of clothing he owned strewn across it.

"I'm getting it!" He yelled downstairs as loudly as he could, hopping out into the hall and trying to put on his shoes at the same time. He nearly toppled down the entire flight of stairs. Feeling absurdly impatient, he made himself sit down and put on his shoes properly before heading to the door. Every extra second felt like an eternity.

And then he was opening the door. And time stood still for a moment.

Kurt looked absolutely _gorgeous. _He was wearing the skinniest, lowest riding jeans in existence. His coat was purple and elegant and open, revealing a simple black t-shirt. But the shirt was tight, and clung to his chest, and hung just above his hips. The short shirt combined with the low waistline left almost two inches of pale skin visible.

_You could cut steel with those hips. _Blaine thought, biting his lip. It took far too long for him to notice what he was doing- looking Kurt up and down with a high level of desire in his eyes- and by the time he looked back up into Kurt's eyes, both boys were blushing slightly. Not knowing what he was going to say, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Who is that?" His mom called from the living room, and he sighed resignedly.

"It's Kurt, mom!" He shouted back, and beckoned for Kurt to follow him. Kurt looked unnerved, so he reached for his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, being sure to drop it before they entered the room.

"I'm meeting your parents?" Kurt mouthed at him in panic, looking down at his outfit self-consciously.

"I'm sorry." Blaine muttered. Kurt frantically tied his coat closed.

It wasn't like his parents weren't okay with him being gay- they hadn't taken the news as wonderfully as Kurt's dad, but Blaine talked to a guy online who's dad threw a bible at his head when he came out, so really, he'd been grateful with what he got. This parents were dealing. Maybe they thought he was making the choice, maybe they thought if he decided to he would be able to "go back to girls", but they also knew their son. And they knew how pigheaded he was. So in their eyes, they knew he wouldn't go back, no matter what they said.

They knew he'd befriended Kurt. They knew Kurt was gay. They had probably guessed at Blaine's feelings for him, or done some sort of fucked up math equation- gay male+gay male= sinning together for life. His mother tried to show that she was "okay" with it at every possible opportunity, especially around his friends. So he wasn't at all surprised when she opened her mouth and she was using that loud, cheery tone that was forced as hell. He just wanted the floor to swallow him up.

"Oh, so is this the boyfriend?" She asked excitedly, rising from her chair and wrapping him in an airy hug. Blaine knew from attending countless functions with his mom that that was what she did when she felt particularly awkward.

"Um, mom, I don't have a boyfriend." He said, shifting his weight and hoping this would be over soon. His dad hadn't moved from his seat, but he grunted something to himself as Blaine spoke.

"Oh, my mistake!" She said. Not even a blip on the radar, no sign on her face giving away what she thought of this. "He talks about you so much, you see." She explained to Kurt, who blushed.

"Okay, mom, now you're just trying to embarrass me," Blaine said, and he grabbed Kurt's arm. "Can we go now?"

His mother gave him a calculating look, as though trying to figure out if she should end the torture or not.

"Of course, dear! Don't want you to miss your reservation or anything. You be good to my son, alright?" She turned on Kurt, an eyebrow raised. If he hadn't felt so awkward, Blaine would've laughed at the terrified expression on his face. It was adorable.

"Of course, Ma'am," Kurt said, and a couple seconds later he managed to pull on his most charming smile. "It was lovely to meet you. Your home is beautiful." At that, his mom brightened. _Well, that was the perfect thing to say. _Blaine thought.

"Oh, thank you, dear. Home by eleven thirty." She said. Normally, it was eleven. His mom liked Kurt.

"Not a problem," Kurt said. "Have a good night!" Before he turned to leave, he not only took Blaine's mom's hand and kissed it gently, but he tipped his hat in Blaine's dad's direction.

And with that, they left. Kurt ended up leading them out, and Blaine wasn't complaining in the slightest. His eyes drifted shamelessly down, and his head tilted of it's own accord to fully take in the way Kurt's ass moved in his tight jeans, the way his hips swayed more than the average guy's. God, he was hot.

In the entryway he grabbed his jacket, a black wool peacoat that fell mid-thigh. With that on over his very own skinny jeans and amber leather boots, he didn't actually feel too underdressed next to Kurt, which was a rare occurrence.

"Well, that wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be," Kurt said as they walked down the driveway to his car, which was parked by the side of the road. "I meant it when I said your house is beautiful. Damn, if I had control over rooms other than my bedroom, I might be stealing the color scheme for your living room." They reached the car, and Kurt opened the door for Blaine smoothly, as though he'd been practicing. Blaine blushed.

"I'm so glad you mentioned the house to her," He told Kurt, once they were both seated comfortably. "She's an interior decorator. She pretty much did everything you saw. And then she wonders why her son is gay." He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. Kurt noticed.

"Does she have a problem with- you being gay?" He asked. It seemed a little ridiculous that they'd never talked about Blaine's coming out in all the time they'd known each other. In fact, it had been two months exactly since they'd met. And he'd still never told this story.

"I came out when I was twelve." He started. Kurt whistled.

"That's young." He said.

"Yeah, it was. It was the kind of thing where I always knew, where it never seemed to be a big deal. My family is- pretty religious. I grew up knowing that homosexuality is a sin, without knowing what homosexuality was. I just knew that I liked boys, and I always had. But I was little, so it didn't really make a difference, did it? Until I was twelve. And I kissed my best friend."

"Uh-oh." Kurt said.

"Uh-oh is right. I went to my parents so damn happy. I'd had my first kiss, and it was wonderful, and I was just- ecstatic. My mom and I talked about everything. I'd never really had a crush before Josh, so I'd never brought up boys, so we'd never had any problems before."

"Problems?" Kurt asked, as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

"I knew Josh because his parents were part of come committee at church with my parents. We kissed at the end of the school year. I told my mom, she told his parents, they sent us to a special camp."

"Oh." Kurt's voice was breathy.

"God, it was the weirdest thing, Kurt. It was this camp for "confused" christian kids. Like, all these gay and lesbian and trans and bi and asexual and everything you could think of kids from eleven to seventeen, staying in cabins, eating at campfires, singing hymns and memorizing bible passages about how evil they were. Half of the kids were totally for it. They believed that if they truly loved god, he would save them from their lust."

"You're really making me rethink my atheism with this." Kurt joked. Blaine laughed.

"Some of christianity isn't bullshit. But that camp was," He said. "Of course, the other half just hooked up all summer. My god, the drama," Kurt laughed loud at that one. "I learned more about gay sex just from hearing them talking about what they did the night before than I _ever _needed to know, and I was only twelve. Josh and I tried to be something, and then he decided he wanted to be cured, and we broke up."

"I'm sorry." Kurt said quietly, taking his hand off the wheel to squeeze Blaine's.

"Thanks," He said, and squeezed back. "But I think it turned out for the best." Both boys smiled, and silence fell in the car. Kurt didn't take his hand back, and Blaine wondered, as he had been wondering since Kurt had first asked him to dinner, if this was a date. _A smarter guy would just ask. _He told himself. But he didn't.

He looked out the window for a little bit, as that seemed to be the only way to keep himself from staring at Kurt. The sky was so dark it was black and thick and seemed to absorb all the light mere inches from where it emanated. The air was heavy with orange light from the streetlamps, and then something changed, and it was snowing. The flakes were thick, and they floated to the earth so gently Blaine couldn't help but wonder if they were magic.

Inside the car, he was warm and comfortable with a pretty boy's hand in his. He looked over at Kurt, and he wasn't watching the road hardly at all. Blaine smiled and raised his eyebrows, and Kurt jumped a little and turned back to the street. A minute later they came to their exit, and Kurt had to take his hand away to change lanes, and then turn at the next light. This seemed to remind him of the conversation they'd been having.

"So what happened after you went to camp? Clearly it didn't turn you straight."

"Yeah, not so much," Blaine admitted with a laugh. "Though I pretended it did for a while. Then in a very dramatic fashion, they found out that I'd actually gotten a boyfriend at don't-be-gay camp. I- my dad was really pissed. He raged at me, punched me in the face-" Kurt gasped. "-and I went to live in my friend Jessica's basement for a month. My mom got me to come back. They still spent a lot of time trying to set me up on dates with girls, taking me to prayer meetings, stuff like that. But in the end, I'm their only child. They don't want to lose me. They basically operate under the policy of 'Hate the sin, love the sinner.'"

"Wow. And she seemed so- cool about it." Kurt said. He sounded like he was in shock.

"Well, she's doing what she can. It's been five years since the really big stuff happened. And she's the most socially adept person I know. Her connections are what got me into Dalton when the bullying got really bad. I decided to leave, and next thing I knew, I was going. The next morning. Bumped me like, nine people up on the waiting list. Crazy shit like that. She wanted you to know that we're a good family, wanted you to know she's a good mom. So she acted like it was all cool."

"Oh. I thought she maybe liked me. I thought I made a good impression."

"That too." He reassured him, smiling. "And my dad somehow managed not to say a word, which is rare. You must have superpowers or something." Kurt giggled, and pulled up to the curb in front of Red Onion.

"Wait. Don't open your door," Kurt insisted, and he turned off the car, walked around to Blaine's side, and opened the door for him. "I know how to be a gentleman." He said, and held out his arm. Blaine could take a hint. He took his arm. Smiling, they walked into the restaurant.

The meal was, as always, wonderful. Their feet always seemed to be bumping against each other in the most pleasant way. Neither could decide on what to eat, so they shared two dishes. The restaurant played music they both loved, and they hummed around the whole night. Their conversation never lagged. When they weren't talking, it wasn't awkward. It was like they were just listening to things deeper down than words.

This had, had, _had _to be a date. And Blaine reveled in it. He looked into Kurt's eyes at every available moment. He let his hand graze Kurt's as he reached from his glass of water, let it linger. Every second was a confirmation. And the more he knew, in his gut, that it was a date, the more he had to be sure. He had to ask. He steeled himself. He looked into those clear eyes, and the words that he'd been meaning to utter for so long just slipped past his lips as if they were no big deal.

"Do you feel the same way about me that I feel about you? Is this a date? Can I take you on another one next weekend?" Damn. His voice didn't even tremble. _Was that even me? Did I actually just ask those questions?_

Kurt just looked at him. For a full minute, he just looked at him. And the look he gave him was the most intense, happy, amazing look in the whole wide world. The answer was written all over his face. His smile didn't just reach his eyes, his eyes _were _his smile. His entire being was his smile. And his smile wasn't really a smile. His smile was a grin the size of Canada.

"Um, it depends on how you feel about me, yes, and fuck yes." Kurt said, voice just barely above a whisper. Now, Kurt was trembling. Blaine grabbed his hand.

"I've had a thing for you since you first walked up to me at Dalton. I've wanted you to be mine since I first heard you speak. I've wanted to kiss you since our eyes first met. And becoming your friend, getting to know you- it's only made those feelings stronger. I'm done being your mentor, your role model. I want to be a bad influence. I want to keep you up too late at night. I want to kiss you silly. I want to be the boy you deserve."

And then he sat back, and tried to breathe. Kurt's eyes were glimmering with tears. _Balls, where'd I learn to talk so nice?_ Blaine wondered.

"Well then," Kurt said. Slowly, quietly, purposefully. "Yes. I feel the same way. I really, really do."

Blaine had watched a lot of romantic comedies in his life. He loved romantic comedies. He watched them with baited breath. He laughed, he cried, he loved every second. And then when they were over, he tore them apart with the skill of a vicious critic. He knew they were crap, and cliché, and cheesy.

That moment felt like the ending of the best romantic comedy ever. There they were, together, finally getting the message and getting together. From that table, it felt like nothing else existed. Blaine couldn't hear anything but Kurt- Kurt breathing, Kurt talking, Kurt existing. That, and his own heart, which had to be about to burst. The world around them was a blur of pretty lights. They looked at each other, and they were all that mattered.

But no matter how far he got from that moment, it never got less perfect. There was nothing to mock, nothing to criticize.

They could do no wrong.

So they finished desert, and-waving aside all of Blaine's protests- Kurt paid, and they stood up, and they walked outside hand in hand.

While they were eating, the snow seemed to have ebbed in and out. It was now coming down slightly slower than it had been when they went in, but the streets were deserted and the sidewalk was slippery beneath the four inches of snow.

"I shouldn't have worn heels." Kurt said, walking carefully to open Blaine's door. Blaine just smiled, and closed it, and took both of Kurt's hands in his.

"You were not prepared for snow." He commented, and he opened up his jacket, pulling Kurt close to him, chest to chest, and wrapping the coat around the two of them. Kurt shivered as if in agreement, and snuggled against him. Kurt was taller, though not by much, and it was slightly awkward, but they didn't give these facts much notice. They just stood there, in the snow, sharing body heat. Body heat that was, as they pressed closer together, getting hotter. Blaine was starting to have trouble breathing, and god, if Kurt didn't kiss him soon, to hell with his promise, he was just going to grab that boy and-

"I don't want to take you home yet." Kurt said, having to pull away slightly to look into his face.

"I don't really want to go home yet." Blaine admitted, smiling.

"But my ass is going to fall off from the cold if we don't get in somewhere warm." Kurt said. Blaine gave him a (slightly) exaggerated look of horror.

"Yeah, okay, let's go." He said quickly, disentangling himself from Kurt and walking over to his door, opening it for himself before Kurt could stop him. In a very mature move, he stuck his tongue out at him.

"Well, that got you to move." Kurt commented wryly as he got into the car.

"If I was in some way responsible for the loss of your ass, I'd never forgive myself." Blaine told him. Kurt laughed.

"I'm not joking. Your ass is not to be joked about. Your ass is to be admired." They both blushed. Finally saying this kind of thing, instead of stuffing it down into a little box of repressed things, verged on the edge of terrifying. Every time Blaine opened his mouth, and didn't stop the words on his mind from coming out, every inch of his body tingled, like he was full of electricity.

"You're one to talk, Mr. Let-You-Put-Your-Hands-On-Me-In-My-Skintight-Jeans. Showoff." Kurt replied, his face bright red.

"I'll live up to that promise, too." Blaine told him. He even winked. Kurt's reaction was close to flailing. He looked amazed. _Okay, this is fun. _Blaine thought. His head was buzzing.

"Okay, Blaine, you need to stop talking. And you need to stop looking at me. And you need to stop being so goddamned _gorgeous, _because I need to actually drive somewhere, as opposed to sitting here with the engine on, slowly killing the environment. And if you don't stop, driving won't be a possibility anymore. Because I will not be able to resist pouncing on you and kissing you within an inch of your life."

"Okay, that was the worst argument for me to stop talking that I've ever heard," Blaine said. "Oh no, if I keep talking Kurt will kiss me! I'd better stop talking right this very second! I wouldn't want that!"

"Oh, shut up," Kurt simply said. "And tell me where we're going."


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Okay, this took forever. I'm good at UST. It's is really comfortable for me. So I struggled a lot with this chapter, for a bit over half of it. But then, yet again, it came together.

Seriously, if it weren't for you guys, I don't know if I would've finished this.

I have a good story. So I went to see Deathly Hallows for the third time the other day. I went with my brothers and my friend Tasha and my girlfriend and my housemate.

The movie theatre we went to is right by the mall where my girlfriend works, so after the movie we went over there. We ate crappy mall food. We dropped her off at work. And then we wandered around the mall for a while. There's a Rosetta Stone kiosk in this mall. My brother and I often stand in front of it and drool, because we are _that _nerdy.

We discovered that the giant screen they have to demonstrate their language learning software also has INTERNET ACCESS.

We went to Tumblr. Then remembered we can't check it because there are BICO spoilers all over the place. So I went to , of course.

And that is when I saw that I had, at the time, exactly 200 reviews.

It is possible that I screamed a little.

So, basically, thanks. In gratitude, I give you a chapter. And hopefully tomorrow, I'll give you another chapter. I keep thinking this thing is going to end and then it doesn't. Huh.

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They came upon a slightly ridiculous plan. It was eight. If they went to their coffee shop, they would have an hour and a half until they had to leave to get back to Blaine's house in time. Kurt would be driving an hour to get coffee, an hour to drop Blaine off, and two hours to get home, but he insisted they go.

The hour drive went by so quickly, it was like it hadn't actually happened. Everyday topics took on a different feeling now. A charge, a current. Blaine's heart seemed to have swelled almost to the point of bursting. He kept looking over at Kurt, and smiling like a crazy person. He saw those lips, and he could almost feel them on his. He couldn't wait for the moment -the moment that had to come soon, it just had to- when they would finally kiss.

And there was no mistaking the look on Kurt's face. He was excited. He was happier than Blaine had ever seen him. _I made him look like that. _He told himself, and a wave of warmth rushed over him. _He feels that way because of me._ It was too good to be true.

When they pulled up to the coffee shop, Kurt gave him a stern look.

"Don't you dare." He said.

"I'm just unbuckling my seat belt." Blaine said, holding both hands above his head like someone about to be arrested.

"I've got my eye on you," Kurt replied, and he got out of the car quite seriously. By the time he'd gotten around to Blaine's door, and opened it with a flourish, the expression on his face had softened. "Here." He said quietly, and he took both of Blaine's hands, leading him out of the car and into the middle of the road.

There was nobody around them. The snow was still drifting to the ground, the air felt thick and heavy, and as they stood, hands clasped together, faces inches apart, Blaine could see clouds of breath issuing from their mouths. They mingled together until you couldn't distinguish one boy's breath from the other's.

Kurt looked angelic in the glow from the streetlamps, his eyes bright and full of something Blaine couldn't quite figure out.

"I want this to be perfect," Kurt said, his voice higher in the way it got when he was nervous. "And I'm beginning to realize that no matter where we were, or what was going on, it would be. Because it's you."

Blaine knew what he was talking about. This was the kiss they were about to share. This was something he'd fantasized about for what felt like eons.

And then this was happening. Kurt leaned in close, and then closer. Their noses bumped and then slid past each other without pause. Every inch of Blaine was warm and alive and his eyes slid closed of their own accord.

Their lips touched. It was simple. They touched. Kurt's lips were so soft, soft and warm and right. Blaine's chest felt like it was being filled with a giant bubble of happiness that was expanding by the second. They were awkward for a second, and he remembered, as if from far away, that this was how first kisses were supposed to be. New, and strange, and full of so much promise.

He stepped forward, moving his body closer to Kurt's. Their hands, which had been clasped together as if for dear life, found better purpose. He moved his upwards- grasping Kurt's elbows, then arms, then shoulders, until he cradled his head in his hands- his thumbs at his jaw, the rest of his fingers digging into the ridiculously soft hair at the nape of his neck. He kissed back, trying to be gentle, trying to let Kurt set the pace- and then Kurt's tongue peeked out, flicking quickly at his upper lip before disappearing. The bubble in Blaine's chest grew again. He growled from somewhere deep in his throat, and before he realized it, he bit Kurt's lower lip. Kurt gasped. Reluctantly, Blaine pulled away.

"Too much?" Blaine asked, his voice lower and gravelly, his breath slightly ragged. Kurt shook his head.

"More." He replied, and sent a thrill down Blaine's spine. He didn't need telling twice. He kissed Kurt, and his hands rested on the boy's bare hips, and he kissed and nipped and reveled in every reaction he got.

Kurt slowly gained confidence, kissing back with more fervor. Blaine resisted the urge to pin the boy to the ground, but it was growing with every second. This was bliss, right here.

And then one of Kurt's hands was grasping Blaine's face, pulling him into a deeper kiss, the other reaching around Blaine's waist and pulling his entire body against him. Blaine moaned a little without meaning to, his tongue slipping into Kurt's mouth like it belonged there.

They stumbled a little, and nearly fell over, and Blaine laughed at the extremely unbalanced look on Kurt's face. Refusing to let go of his hips, he smoothly pushed him backwards, giving him a hungry look before pressing him against the side of his car. Kurt squeaked. There was no room between their bodies, and as Blaine let one hand wander down to slip inside Kurt's back pocket, and his other rub patterns over his jutting hipbone, Kurt groaned and closed his eyes, his head falling back to hit the window of the car, his pelvis jerking slightly.

Blaine couldn't resist. He leaned in and kissed Kurt's taught neck, his tongue flicking against him quickly. Kurt sighed, and grabbed at Blaine's clothing, trying to pull him closer. There wasn't really any way to _be _closer, and oh god, Blaine could feel Kurt's erection pressed against his thigh, and he could feel his own pressed against Kurt, and if they weren't standing in front of a coffee shop, pressed against a car, Blaine would be ripping off Kurt's clothes right now-

He pulled away. Kurt made a sad sound, and looked at him, confused.

"Kurt..." He said, and he wasn't sure he'd actually made any noise, he didn't have the air in his lungs to do so. "Kurt, we should take things slower."

Kurt did not look like he was a fan of this idea.

"I- that was our first kiss, and it was perfect, but it also made me want to do things to you- things you've definitely never done. And things one shouldn't jump into right away." Blaine ached to ignore his own words, to just forget it and press his mouth back against Kurt's. His lips felt odd, now that they weren't being used. Like something was missing. Kurt was missing.

But Kurt nodded numbly, which reminded Blaine of what he'd said earlier that night- "_I want to be the boy you deserve." _The boy Kurt deserved was a boy who didn't push. He knew that it could get tricky- Kurt had been traumatized, really, by Karofsky. Blaine was terrified that he'd get too rough, something would remind him of that forced kiss in the locker rooms at McKinley, and he'd set off some horrible reaction. That Kurt would feel unsafe around him. It was easier to stop for the amazing boy standing in front of him than it was for any other reason. So they were out in public, and freezing, and only on their first date. So what? But Kurt- he was what really mattered.

So he placed a single, chaste kiss on his lips, and stepped back, suddenly painfully aware of how hard he was, and painfully aware of how aware Kurt must be of this.

"I- I don't think I can go be in public right now." Kurt said, laughing breathlessly. Blaine blushed.

"Yeah, me neither," He admitted. He turned to lean against the car, his shoulder blades feeling the cold of the glass through his jacket, his right arm feeling the heat of Kurt's arm through both of their jackets. He sighed, and closed his eyes. He breathed slowly and deliberately, letting cold air wash over him, his heartbeat eventually slowing to a normal rhythm. When he opened his eyes, Kurt was staring at him. The blush that had just faded away bloomed into existence once again. "What?" He asked.

"You just- your eyelashes are- I-" Kurt stuttered, his face bright red. Blaine just looked at him, waiting patiently. "-I kissed you." He finally said, looking stunned.

"That you did." Blaine confirmed.

"I just- kissed you. And it was..." He trailed off, sounding unsure.

"It was _amazing_." Blaine finished. Kurt grinned.

"I hate calling things perfect," Kurt said. "Nothing is ever perfect. It's- cheesy and naive. And I know I don't have the best history of kissing to compare it to, and I hate calling things perfect, but- It was perfect."

"For you too?" Blaine asked. Nothing in the entire world could wipe the crazy happy smile off his face.

"Of course."

And then Blaine reached out, and took Kurt's hand in his. It was so cold that it made him realize just how cold he was.

"We've got to get inside before our fingers fall off." He said, and dragged Kurt into the coffee shop.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They'd spent a whole lot of time in that coffee shop. The uneven hardwood floor, the delicious coffee, the comfortable seats, the roaring fireplace- it was all so familiar.

But being there, and being whatever it was that they were now, it made it feel like entirely new territory. Blaine looked around and felt like he was taking it all in for the first time. He'd always loved this place. But there was something about having it a part of this perfect night that made him feel an affection, an appreciation for the place. Even the few people in the shop- it was late, and snowing, and most people were snuggled up at home- looked kinder than they ever had before.

They walked up to the counter, and ordered the same drinks they always ordered. Blaine fought Kurt off valiantly, insisting that they could both be gentlemen, and paid for their drinks. The barista behind the counter was the same one who had been working the first time they'd ever gone there, and she gave them a knowing smile. He smiled back as he took both coffees from her, following Kurt towards the fireplace. The loveseat they always sat at was, thankfully, empty, and they sat down angled towards each other. As always.

But there were a few little differences. Differences that made Blaine want to swoon.

For one, this time, their limbs overlapped. Usually their knees would press together slightly, and Blaine would overanalyze every shift, every movement. Tonight, ignoring the slightly offended fashionista look on Kurt's face, he slipped out of his boots and folded his feet beneath him to sit cross-legged, his back leaning against the plush arm of the loveseat. Kurt sat down facing him, and gracefully placed his legs across the loveseat, and _christ, his legs are long, _Blaine marveled as the boy's ankles rested on his leg, his high-heel boot-clad feet dangling over the edge.

Their hands seemed to be in constant motion, always connected somehow. The feeling of Kurt's hand in his was a surprise every time, so right and so exciting. Blaine's hand would rest on Kurt's leg, tapping out the rhythms to music in his head, and then he'd start to talk about something, and he'd start gesturing wildly, and the he'd calm down a little, and Kurt would start to talk, and he'd settle again. And then Kurt would lean forward slightly and creep his hand under Blaine's, and whatever was going on would be completely overshadowed by that one moment.

And then there were the looks. Blaine was pretty sure he didn't look at anything except Kurt's eyes the entire time they sat there. And Kurt never looked away. Blaine was never going to get over the look the younger boy was giving him. It was mirroring everything he was feeling- the happiness and the bliss and the complete belief that everything, in this moment, was as it was meant to be. And still, under it all, the utter _disbelief _that this night was even happening. The feeling that if either one of them decided to be cheesy enough to actually pinch themselves, it would wake them up.

But more than anything physical was the way he felt. It was like the very last muscle in his body had relaxed, finally let go. He'd spent hours at a time on this cushion, hours knowing this was the only place he wanted to be, hours knowing it was torture, hours not caring. He'd let a side of himself show that he still shied away from, let a part of himself just be without stressing out about what anyone thought. But he'd never before felt this kind of belonging- the kind of belonging where he knew each and every bit of him was included.

"You do know that not a soul at Dalton is going to be surprised at this, right?" Blaine commented. Kurt laughed that full, happy laugh that didn't show up that often. The one where his eyes shut and his nose crinkled and he threw his head back and his hair got slightly tossed out of place.

"I expect a bunch of 'finally!'s from them, actually," Kurt said. "I can't even explain how much time Wes and David have spent trying to convince me that you feel the same way. 'He's head-over-heels about you, Kurt. Have you seen the way he looks at you, Kurt? Just push against a wall and make out with him, Kurt!'" He imitated, rolling his eyes.

"Such classy friends we have," Blaine joked. "Not that I would've objected _had _you pushed me against a wall, of course," He added. Kurt blushed furiously. "We really should've listened to them. We would've been together before you'd even transferred."

"Oh no. What did they tell you?" Kurt asked, looking stricken. "What did they say I said?"

"Well, they never quoted you or anything, but they did tell me that you wanted me to, um, whisk you away to Massachusetts and do nasty, nasty things to you and then grow old together."

The look on Kurt's face was priceless.

"Those were two entirely different conversations!" He exclaimed, indignant. "That makes me sound insane! Bipolar!"

"So wait- you actually said you wanted me to whisk you away to Massachusetts?" Blaine asked, the idea actually sounding quite appealing. "And- you actually said you wanted me to 'do nasty, nasty things to you'?" This, too, sounded pretty damn appealing. But a lot less like something Kurt would say.

"I- not in those words, no," Kurt said, a playful look in his eyes. "I think it was more like 'It's getting to the point where I wouldn't mind he just wanted sex. I'd let him use me.'"

Blaine had always thought that people's jaws never actually dropped, that it was just some saying that was overused and unrealistic. But his mouth was hanging open, and dirty images were running through his head, and he sort of felt like someone had hit him over the head with a frying pan.

"I- I-" He stuttered, failing epicly to find any words in his brain. It was like it had been wiped blank. He closed his eyes for a second. Okay. _Focus. _He told himself. _Plenty of time for those thoughts later. When you're alone. When Kurt doesn't look so goddamn amused with himself. _

"I don't just want sex," He finally managed to say. "I mean- it's not like I _don't _want sex- I'm a teenaged boy, and you're- well- you're _you_, and I've definitely- I mean- I just- Oh, forget it." Kurt was laughing hysterically at this. _Smooth._

"Oh. My. God," Kurt gasped, each word slipping out between giggles. "That was just- beautiful."

"Oh, shut up." Blaine said, looking around. Kurt was leaning against the only throw pillows in the vicinity, so he couldn't hit him with them. Which was probably a good thing, as that wasn't exactly the kind of behavior that endeared one to an establishment like this. But it might've made him shut up a bit. _Or it would've just made him laugh more. _Yes, that was likely. There was no way to win. He sighed.

"I didn't realize you were talking to David and Wes about me," He said, hoping the change of subject would go by without comment. Kurt gave him a knowing smile, but didn't say anything. "If I did, I might've taken them more seriously. I wanted to let you lead the way, I wanted you to be in charge of stuff for once. But I was close to caving and just asking you out despite all of that- and maybe I would've been able to speed this up, maybe I would've gotten to kiss you sooner.

"So I didn't know that what they were saying to me was anything other than typical friendly encouragement. But you- they're my best friends. You had to know that they knew what they were talking about. Why didn't you ask me out earlier?" He asked. He wasn't upset that things had worked out the way they had. But he wondered. Kurt thought for a second before answering.

"I just- I didn't know you very well. I didn't know them very well. But I had noticed pretty early on that they're ridiculous. And they tend to exaggerate. It's like a perpetual contest, they're always trying to be a bit more absurd than the other. And you weren't really showing signs that you had feelings for me, or maybe I was just too used to misreading things that I convinced myself I was crazy whenever I thought you felt like I did. And it's not like you were the reason that I transferred, but you had a lot to do with it-"

"I did?" Blaine interrupted. His voice came out much squeaker than he would've liked.

"Duh," Kurt replied. "You were the one who first mentioned it as a possibility, even though you suggested I try and stick it out. You were the person who shared everything about what it was like. You were the one who I knew would be there for me if I did go- the one person I'd know, the one person who would definitely be my friend, the one person who would like me. Even if I'd gone and everyone had hated me, at least you were there, you know?."

Blaine nodded. He'd always wanted Kurt to know that he _was _that person, and knowing that Kurt knew- it meant a lot.

"I didn't want to ruin what we had. I was so grateful for just what we had, wanting more, risking it- it seemed selfish. And I wanted to get to know you better. I wanted to see you more. And-" Kurt broke off their eye contact, looking down at his cup of coffee bashfully. "-I had this huge crush on you. I knew I couldn't transfer just because I liked a boy who might like me back, but I was hardly resisting the urge to leave _before _Karofsky came back," He looked back up at Blaine, his face a bit more somber. Somehow, the conversation had morphed into something else entirely.

"Sometimes I wonder if I just let that be my excuse. If it wasn't that big a deal, and I let it get bigger in my head and somehow got my dad to think it was worse than it was, just so that I could leave McKinley. Just so that I could get into your pants."

Blaine laughed, but the look on Kurt's face was entirely serious, his eyes searching Blaine's for something.

"Oh, Kurt, no," Blaine said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tight. "You listen to me, okay? Because I'm right. Karofsky has a lot of issues. He's repressed. He looked at you and not only did he see a boy he was having _very _confusing thoughts about, but he was seeing a boy who had things he wanted for himself. Identity. Confidence. Freedom. Courage. And growing up in the middle of Ohio, with the kind of proper "Morals" most kids in the middle of Ohio grow up with, he started hating himself. For wanting you. For wanting what you had.

"But he's repressed. He doesn't hate himself, he projects all his self-hate onto you. And that's serious. And that's dangerous. Things were escalating, and they were escalating quickly. He sexually assaulted you, he threatened your life- The people most likely to commit hate crimes against queer people are normally queer themselves in some way. Maybe I was some sort of motivation for you transferring, but if anything, you're downplaying it. He could've done some horrible things. He _did _do horrible things. And your dad was completely right to take you out of there. You were right to leave.

"I really think that. I'm not just saying that because I want you in my pants."

This time, Kurt laughed, albeit shakily. A tear fell down his cheek, but there was a look of relief on his face. Blaine knew that it was good, if not imperative, to look back on past events, rehash them, reevaluate. It brought closure. Release. But it was painful, and hard to do by yourself. He reached over and wiped away the tear, his hand lingering on Kurt's smooth skin, savoring the feeling. He'd wanted to do that the very day they'd met, wanted to help the boy through his pain in some way, however small that way happened to be.

Kurt looked at him, and took his hand, and placed it over his racing heart. Blaine could feel it running a mile a minute under the soft cotton shirt, and he began to suspect that they way he was helping was far from smile.

So he looked at Kurt, and took his hand, and placed it over his very own racing heart. He was wearing a thick sweater, and he wondered briefly whether Kurt could feel it. But their eyes met, and he knew with conviction that he could. And he started to realize just how much Kurt was doing for him.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Wow, this is so not tomorrow from when I posted the last chapter. I apologize.

So, this is the end. The last chapter. My reasoning is this- This was the end I'd originally seen, stuff just kept popping up between the beginning and the end, so I kept writing. I had some stuff I was going to have after, and change where it ended, but then I got to it and it just felt so right I knew I couldn't. I'll probably have the couple of scenes I was going to write turn into oneshots later.

And it's gotten harder to write the last few chapters, because I have all these other fic ideas running around my head. I want to get some of those out and I want to have this story done and yet again, it just feels right.

And lastly- If I end it now, there will be SEVEN CHAPTERS.

AND THEN MY CHAPTERS CAN BE MY HORCRUXES.

I'm really excited about this.

So this is my final thank you. To every single person who reviewed me, to the the people who reviewed me again and again, to the people who crowd my inbox with notifications telling me I've been put on alert and put on a favorite list. It makes me so happy. So absurdly happy.

And since I've refrained from this- Thank you to my RL people who've supported me. Kitty and Kina, Becca and Tasha and Sophie and Olivia B, and Blueberry, my moms. I love you all and you make me so happy.

And Reilly gets a special thank you. Because she reads this, and she doesn't even watch Glee.

I'll be seeing you guys again soon.

**OH MY GOD I'VE FORGOTTEN A DISCLAIMER FOR EVERY SINGLE CHAPTER.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee in any way, shape, or form, and I never have. I have nothing to do with Glee. I am a fangirl. The only way I could make money off of this is by writing it while the kids I'm babysitting are asleep. And that so totally doesn't count. **

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Somehow, conversation flowed from the serious subjects to the silly ones. Somehow, they stopped talking about being attacked and harassed to talking about broadway and Abercrombie models.

Their voices stayed quiet, so quiet that they probably shouldn't have been able to hear each other. But they could. The time went by so quickly, Blaine had been convinced that his pocket watch- the one that his grandfather had left him when he passed away last year- was running fast again. Kurt had to show him the time on his phone to convince him. He actually had to refrain from whining about it.

"I don't think it's fair that the night has to end, really." He complained, standing up reluctantly and pulling on his jacket. Kurt nodded, doing the same.

"At least we have another hour in the car." He said. Blaine loved that optimistic streak in Kurt. He was pretty sure there was nothing that could happen to Kurt that he wouldn't eventually bounce back from.

"There is that," He conceded. "But I can't hold your hand when you're driving. I can't stare into your eyes like some incredibly cheesy person. I can't kiss you."

"You're not kissing me right now." Kurt pointed out, a smile playing on his lips.

"Oh really?" Blaine asked, and without thinking about it for a second, he grabbed his hand, pulled him around, and kissed him swiftly on his lips. It wasn't anything fancy. It was a kiss that conveyed, more than anything else, that they had many more kisses to come.

It was suddenly very quiet in the little coffee shop. Blaine and Kurt exchanged a panicked look. It was one thing to go out to dinner and hold hands in Westerville, which wasn't exactly large. They were being pretty out there when they did that. But Blaine didn't even know the name of this town. It wasn't even on a map. And everyone they knew was at least an hour away.

And they hadn't exactly just been holding hands.

Luckily, nobody jumped up and started screaming at them about how 'Man Shall Not Lie With Man As With A Woman', or whatever it was. Nobody said anything, in fact. They just looked at the two suddenly _very_ out boys. Some people looked confused. Some angry. The barista looked worried.

A few thoughts ran through Blaine's head. He knew that they wouldn't be able to come back here, at least not for a long while. They were safe right now, he could tell. But word would get around, as it always did, and the next time they were there things could be different. And there was no way he was dragging Kurt back into that kind of situation. No matter what. So they wouldn't be back. So maybe they could give everyone a show.

"Yeah, I just kissed a boy," He said, in his actor voice. It was smooth, it was confident, It was steady. He projected, and he held himself differently, and he gestured with his hands. "Because I adore this boy. Because I like him. I _like him _like him. And I don't do it to be radical, or to freak people out, or because I'm the spawn of satan. I like him, and I kiss him, and I'm still a good person. I'm just me. And he's just him."

He knew it wasn't exactly eloquent, but at the moment, it was the best he could do. Kurt was looking at him, clearly wondering if he was crazy. Blaine was starting to wonder the same thing. Nobody said anything. They just stared. God, this was awkward.

"Um, so, yeah. Just thought I'd introduce the theory that being gay isn't actually bad. And now I'm going to leave." He mumbled, not using his actor voice anymore. Kurt got the message, and he led the way out. With a smile, Blaine noticed a little extra something in Kurt's walk. It looked like he was on a runway in Paris. Bitchy and cold and fabulous. It was sexy as hell.

And he kept walking like that until he got into the car.

"What was that about?" Kurt asked as he turned the key in the ignition.

"Eh," Blaine shrugged. Not sure, really. Righteous anger? Pent-up frustration at living in this state? Not wanting people to look at my-" he blushed, looked away, and had a brief panic attack. Were they together? He didn't want to kiss anyone else. He didn't want Kurt to kiss anyone else. He wanted them to be boyfriends. Was that rushing into things? How did this work? _Oh shut up. You've had boyfriends before. _He told himself. _Yeah, but they weren't Kurt. _He argued. Argh, his sentence was just lying there, waiting for him to finish. "-Kurt. Not wanting people to look at my Kurt like that? Queer hatred at societal norms?"

"Blaine?" Kurt said, looking away from the road and into his eyes for a split second.

"Yeah?" Blaine asked, his face still warm, still self-conscious of his slip-up.

"I'm totally your boyfriend," Kurt said. His voice was rich and full and confident. Blaine struggled to find words that fit the way he was feeling- words to tell him how happy this made him, how relieved, how excited. But he was stunned, and nothing came out, and when Kurt spoke again, he didn't sound nearly as confident. "I mean, if you want me to be. We don't have to be, I just thought-"

"I want you to be my boyfriend, Kurt," Blaine insisted. There was no way he was going to let the other boy think for a second he didn't want that. "That's an understatement. I want you to be my boyfriend more than I want Prop 8 to be repealed. More than I want Judy Garland to come back to life. More than I want this night to never end. I- I really like you." He said.

"I really like you too." Kurt said, his smile spilling through his voice.

"Good." Blaine said, and he placed his hand gently on Kurt's leg. They shared a quick look, a look that spoke volumes. _That's my boyfriend I'm looking at. _Blaine thought, and that bubble of happiness filled his whole body.

Sometimes, silence is exactly what's needed. Sometimes, it feels so comfortable, breaking it would be insanity. That was the silence in the car on the way to Blaine's house. It was so warm and tangible, the feeling between them. Finally, every piece had fallen together.

_And to think, five and a half hours ago I wasn't even sure if this was a date. _Blaine marveled. _Five and a half hours ago, I was freaking out about my shirt. I had no idea that tonight would be like this. I hadn't kissed Kurt. _He felt sorry for five-and-a-half-hours-ago Blaine. Right-now Blaine was the happiest person on the face of the earth.

"I can't believe it took us two whole months to get together," Kurt said, about ten minutes from Blaine's house. "When we both liked each other the entire time." For the second time in two weeks, Blaine was caught entirely breathless because of a mention of the length of time they'd known each other. Until right now, the memory of that incident had been mortifying. But now, looking back, it made him laugh.

"What?" Kurt asked, sounding offended.

"I just- remember when you called me on Thanksgiving?" He asked, smiling. Kurt nodded. "And you were saying all these sweet things, and I was dying a little inside from how much you were making me like you-"

"Wait wait wait," Kurt said, his eyebrows raised. "I did not _make _you like me, mister. That was all you."

"Oh, because I'm the one who just walked up being totally gorgeous and talented and actually gay. I'm the one. Not you." Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Um, you kinda were," Kurt pointed out. "Totally gorgeous? Check. Talented? Check. Actually gay? Check," He shot a triumphant glance at Blaine. "Beat that."

"That wasn't the point at all," Blaine said, knowing he'd let Kurt win pretty much any silly argument they had for the rest of their lives. "The point was that we were on the phone, and you mentioned how long it had been since we'd met. And it wasn't just like 'about three weeks'. It was exact. To the day."

"I remember that!" Kurt exclaimed, grinning. "And then you squeaked and there was a thud and you told me that-"

"I stubbed my toe, yeah. I was lying." He admitted.

"Oh?" Kurt asked, looking curious.

"Yeah. I- well, I fell off my bed." Blaine told his boyfriend. His boyfriend laughed uproariously. In his head, Blaine decided he wasn't ever going to refer to Kurt as anything other than "his boyfriend." It made his heart do stupid things. Like stop for a second.

"You fell off your bed?" Kurt asked incredulously. "You actually, seriously- you- _you fell off your bed?_"

Blaine nodded.

"Oh my god. That's the best thing I've ever heard," He said, gasping for breath a little. "I have this image in my head now of you falling out of bed, and it's hilarious, and it's just playing over and over..."

"You probably shouldn't be driving and picturing me in bed at the same time. It could end badly." Blaine said, unsure if he wanted Kurt to notice if he'd gone from falling _out _of bed to simply being _in _bed.

"Oh, I do that all the time." Kurt responded simply, a pleased smile playing on his lips.

"Oh really? Now it's really getting interesting." Blaine commented, and realized how blatantly he'd been flirting with Kurt before they'd ever said anything about how they felt for each other. This conversation wasn't really that different from any other they'd had. The only difference was that they'd been pretending they didn't mean the things they meant when they said the things they said.

"Well, you know- long drive to school every day. Lots of highway, lots to daydream about." His boyfriend told him, and he felt all giggly inside, thinking of Kurt daydreaming about him. He began to say something about how he daydreamed about him too, when he noticed they were in his neighborhood. In fact, they were pulling up to his house. How had he not noticed? He hadn't looked away from Kurt for the entire ride. For a whole hour, he'd done nothing but stare at his boyfriend. He was impressive.

"Oh, damn." Blaine muttered, and gave Kurt a sad look.

"I'll walk you to the door?" The boy offered, a similar pout on his lips.

"Please. I don't want a second I could be spending with you to be lost." Blaine said, and as he watched Kurt smile, as he heard Kurt squeak in happiness, as he watched Kurt step out of the car and practically bounce around to open his door, he felt a surge of gratitude that _his boyfriend_ seemed to appreciate his cheesy and romantic side. A million plots ran around his head, most of them involving roses and horse-drawn carriages and serenades by moonlight. But they were forced out by the simple sight of the boy who opened his door. The amazing, beautiful, laughing boy who opened his door.

It wasn't like Kurt had changed since they'd left the coffee shop an hour ago. Same hair, same face, same showstopping clothes over the same body he'd stared at a thousand times. But the look in his eyes- Blaine had never seen that before. And he knew without a doubt that their eyes mirrored each other, and he was wearing the exact same look.

He slipped out of the car, and closed the door, and wrapped his arms around the waist of the taller boy.

There was a thought Blaine had pretty often when he looked at Kurt. It just popped up, and before tonight, he'd always fought it off with his ever trusty mental pitchfork. It wasn't the kind of thought that was proper in the situation they'd been in. When you're not even dating someone, the word _Mine _is one that's a little out of place. A little crazy.

But now? He invited it in. He let it envelop him, wrap around his head until that was all he could think. _Mine mine mine mine mine. _He thought. _So mine. _And when he looked into Kurt's eyes, the same word was shining through. Now, that thought was exhilarating. He was just barely grasping that Kurt was his when he came to the conclusion that he was Kurt's.

"I'm so lucky." Blaine murmured. Kurt took his hand, and they walked up to the door. He didn't utter a word until they were standing on the doorstep, and facing each other again.

"I'm having a bit of trouble believing this is real," Kurt said softly, his voice just above a whisper. "I'm standing here and looking at you and just- I can't believe it. That you can feel so lucky to have me, when I feel like I've been bestowed some gift from the heavens I don't believe in. I mean, we can't both be lucky. I don't know," He looked away for a second, then locked eyes with Blaine again. "I just can't remember the last time I felt so happy. It's unreal."

"I know what you mean," Blaine replied. "I can't remember either. But you know what? It's-" He kissed Kurt on the forehead. "All-" He kissed Kurt's nose, which made him giggle. "Real." And he placed the last kiss on his boyfriend's lips.

They kissed for a few minutes, slow and gentle and deep. Blaine's heart seemed to be beating somewhere around his ears, making his head pound pleasantly. When they finally managed to pull apart, they just stared at each other. Blaine couldn't look away. He was in a trance, a trance where all he wanted was that face and that body next to his own. That was all.

"I don't want to say goodnight." Kurt said sadly. Blaine nodded.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" He asked hopefully.

"Spending time with you?" Kurt asked back, just as hopefully.

"Hells yes," Blaine replied. "I'll text you. I might have plans with David and Wes, but you're more than invited over. They're going to want to mock us for being all cute and couple-y."

"I get to be cute and couple-y with you." Kurt said, his face lighting up.

"For as long as you'll have me." Blaine said softly.

They looked at each other. They had a moment. It had been two months since they'd met, but now the clock reset. It had been two hours, thirteen minutes, and a few seconds give or take, since they'd kissed.

And for the rest of their lives, they counted from that moment.

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_THE END_

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